A boy and a balloon

I stood, holding the string

of a large red balloon,

and all was well.

Then, suddenly, here I must tell,

I let go of the string,

and a strange thing befell;

into the sky,

went I,

floating past the treetops,

watching clouds passing by,

until I’d reached the height

of twenty thousand feet,

where I did die.


‘But,how could you have written this?

Surely you lie!’


‘Okay.’ I reply

‘I’ll tell you the truth:

I wasn’t that youth,

who died too soon –

I was the balloon.’

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